


Fall from the sun

by miikkellsen



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, They go on a roadtrip but walking, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkellsen/pseuds/miikkellsen
Summary: It took Arcade an embarrassing amount of time -by his standards- to learn that Rowan had no memories previous to getting shot in the head. He had already given up trying to understand how he had survived that to begin with, but the memory loss was something that still puzzled and mesmerized him.
Relationships: Arcade Gannon/Courier, Male Courier/Arcade Gannon
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to warn whoever decides to read this that not only am I not a writer, I'm also dyslexic and this hasn't been proofread. Enjoy.

“Wanna go on an adventure?”

Arcade turned his head slowly to look at Rowan, who was sitting on the long kitchen table of the presidential suite, hovering over him. The Courier had stayed in the Lucky 38 ever since he met Mr. House, and he had made a home out of the presidential suite, whatever that meant for Rowan. He had some clothes in the wardrobe and some weapons in the trunk of the master bedroom. The rest of the suite was filled with trinkets, broken electronics from the old world, abandoned engineering projects and whatever else Rowan found interesting. It wasn’t as much of a mess as it sounded, the kitchen was mostly free of Rowan’s ‘hobbies’ and whoever decided to stay in the Lucky 38 had an space for them guaranteed.

Arcade thought it was good. At least better than a tent at the Old Fort.

“Ok?” He answered hesitantly.

With time, he had learned to deal with Rowan and his antics. It’s not that the Courier was ‘difficult’ or bad or anything of the sorts. He was peculiar, which was sort of expected considering the events that had landed him to the table where he was currently sitting.

It took Arcade an embarrassing amount of time -by his standards- to learn that Rowan had no memories previous to getting shot in the head. He had already given up trying to understand  _ how _ he had survived that to begin with, but the memory loss was something that still puzzled and mesmerized him. Rowan  _ seemed _ normal, at first sight at least. He could walk and he could talk. He had some knowledge of cultural concepts and historical events. He could tinker with and fix most electronic devices they had come across. If you spent just a couple of hours with Rowan you wouldn’t notice anything wrong. But as Arcade spent more and more time around the Courier he started realizing little details, small things, that once put together painted the picture of a very lost and broken man.

The only moments of his life that Rowan shared with his companions where from the time he was a courier for the Mojave Express. At first everyone thought he was merely a private person, but it soon became clear to Arcade that it was because he couldn’t remember anything prior to that. He had hypothesized that maybe Rowan only had knowledge of his employment because he had been told about it. Maybe that had stirred something in his mind that unlocked those memories, or maybe he was making them up to not seem out of place. Arcade didn’t like thinking about this part of Rowan, but he would often find himself pondering about it. 

“An adventure to where?” Shouted Arcade, but Rowan was already somewhere else in the suite, preparing things judging by all the ruckus.

As Arcade went into the entrance, Rowan came out of his room with two backpacks that looked filled to the brim. He obviously had prepared them  _ before _ asking Arcade to go with him, which raised a lot of questions in the doctor’s mind. It wasn’t typical Rowan behaviour to prepare in advance for things, much less for what was probably going to be a dumb excursion into the dessert to find some obscure electronic part for a new project. Probably.

Still, Arcade grabbed the backpack that Rowan extended to him, and followed the man into the elevator.

* * *

They had stopped at the Grub n’ Gulp to rest when Arcade decided to ask Rowan again where they were going, since he still didn’t know.

“Primm.” Answered the bigger man, looking everywhere but at Arcade.

“What are we looking for in Primm?” Asked Arcade, intrigued. Primm was much farther than other places they had gone to in other trips of this kind.

A worrying thought suddenly popped into Arcade’s mind. Maybe this trip wasn’t like others they had made.

“Whatever we find.” Answered Rowan very quietly.

* * *

They decided to spend the night in Novac, and continue the rest of the way the next day. They weren’t too far and it wasn’t too late, but the backpacks were heavy, and Rowan didn’t want to cross through Nipton at night. It was ‘creepy’, he argued.

“...I just don’t think it’s a good idea to cross the place massacred by the Legion when it’s dark. It’s probably haunted. Do you want to get into a fight with whatever ghosts came out of that bloodbath? Makes my skin crawl just to think about it.” Rowan was rambling, whether it was to distract Arcade or himself, the doctor didn’t know.

“Ghost aren’t real Rowan,” The doctor sighed. The Courier wasn’t dumb, Arcade knew this, but he was often a bit incredulous and had a tendency to overthink, which wasn’t a good mix. “and, besides, it was you who said we didn’t have enough caps for two rooms at the hotel.”

“Does that bother you?” Rowan had stopped in his tracks and was looking at Arcade a bit perplexed. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared sleeping quarters.”

“No, it’s not that, I just-” Arcade sighed again. “Just forget I said anything, I agree with spending the night in Novac, it’s a good idea.” He looked at Rowan. “You just seem… agitated. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be. It's just a longer trip than usual. Nothing to worry about.”

Rowan was lying and Arcade knew it. Hell, Rowan probably knew that Arcade knew and so on. It was a bad lie, and, even if he had tried Arcade would’ve still known. Rowan couldn’t lie and everyone in their little band knew this. Regardless of what the lie was about there would always be a little tell. Which didn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t capable of hiding information or cheating other people, it just meant he had to do it other ways than lying. 

Arcade didn’t understand why Rowan felt the need to lie to him, considering how much they knew about each other. He didn’t even think Rowan had  _ anything _ worth hiding, all things considered.

* * *

They got a single room at the Dino Dee-lite Motel, just as they had decided. The walk up to their room was quiet. Arcade was mulling over what this trip could really be for. There were too many possibilities. Rowan was clumsily trying to open the door to their room when Arcade got out of his own head to look at him. What could possibly be going on in Rowan’s head?

Once inside the room they set their backpacks next to the table. Arcade went directly to the small bathroom to wash his hands -a habit he had been trying to instill in his companions for a while now, alas, to no avail- while Rowan started to unpack things. Once he came out of the bathroom he found that Rowan had set the table with a couple of cloth napkins that he had never seen before. They were crudely sewn, indicating that most likely Rowan had made them when he had tried to learn to sew a couple of weeks ago. Still, Arcade appreciated not having to eat on top of the motel table. Next, the Courier took out of his backpack 2 mystery cans. They had found those last month inside a vault in a similar adventure, and Rowan had taken as many as he could carry. They were OK for the most part, and they were comfortable to carry for moments like this. 

They ate slowly, commenting on the food or talking about the rest of their friends, avoiding the real reason they were there.

“Was I your first choice for this particular ‘adventure’?” Asked Arcade, amusedly making air quotations.

“You’re always my first choice for all my adventures” Rowan said nonchalantly, as if that simple sentence didn’t carry much more weight than it should.

That shut Arcade up for the rest of the meal. Rowan hadn’t said anything bad, not really, it was just… weird whenever the Courier would make these kind of comments. It wasn’t that it made Arcade uncomfortable either, but it was undeniable that there was something there, something  _ more _ . The two of them had gotten very close very fast, and everyone in their little group could see it. 

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when Arcade was all alone with his thoughts, he’d entertain the idea, think of what it could be like if either of them were to take that step. It wasn’t a desperate need, no, but a recurring thought that would make him curious and even hopeful on good days, and make him feel stupid on bad days. Rowan probably too much to deal with to bother with relationships.  _ He  _ had too much to deal with for relationships.

At the end of the day, it was only wishful thinking.

* * *

Rowan decided to take a shower before going to bed, which Arcade was grateful for, since that would give him a moment alone with his thoughts.

The doctor sat on the lonely bed in the middle of their tiny room, his back resting on the headboard. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and, if he paid enough attention, Rowan softly humming something. He couldn’t identify the song, although he was almost certain it was something from the radio. Those songs were catchy.

Hearing the Courier got Arcade thinking again about where they were going. Primm. As far as he knew, Rowan hadn’t been back to Primm since that first time he crossed it going to New Vegas. No one really lived there anymore and it wasn’t known for its resources. What possibly could Rowan be looking fo- the Mojave Express. It came crashing down on him like an avalanche. How could he forget about the sole office of the post in New Vegas. The only place Rowan knew he had been to before losing his memory.

What could he possibly want by going there completely escaped Arcade. The Courier had been there before. If there had been any kind of personal information about him in the office he had probably already found it. Arcade knew he had found that terrible Enclave robot there. Could there be anything more?

His thoughts were interrupted by Rowan coming out of the bathroom, surrounded by a cloud of steam. He was wearing a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“You ready to go to bed?” Asked Rowan, as he walked to the bed. “I think I used all the hot water, sorry.”

“Oh, just- don’t worry about it I already showered this morning.” To be honest Arcade would’ve like to shower too, but it was too late and he was tired, so a quick wash-up in the sink would have to do.

He looked into his backpack and found a change of clothes -Rowan had really thought about everything- and then walked into the bathroom. It was hot and humid. The Courier really liked his hot showers. Arcade cleaned up the condensation in the mirror with his sleeve and looked at his reflection. It suddenly dawned on him that he was going to share a bed with Rowan. He had been too absorbed in his own thoughts to process that, apparently.

It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last either. They had shared sleeping quarters countless times before, and the same bed a fair amount of times. It wasn’t new, but it was also  _ different _ . Usually, they ended up sharing a bed because they were travelling in a bigger group and there just wasn’t enough space for everyone. They had shared a tent a handful of times, just the two of them. But that was only because, again, they were in a bigger group, and it was only a coincidence that both Arcade and Rowan finished their watch duty at the same time, or that there weren’t enough tents and they had to split in pairs to share. 

This time though, it was just the two of them.

Arcade brushed his teeth and did some basic washing in the sink to make sure he at least didn’t smell, and then changed into whatever Rowan had packed for him. He had a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and he couldn’t tell if they were his or Rowan’s. Things would usually get mixed up in the laundry.

The doctor neatly folded the clothes he had been wearing and went out of the bathroom. He quickly glanced at Rowan, who was already in bed observing a small clock he had been trying to fix for a couple of days. Arcade put his clothes in his backpack and made a beeline for the bed. 

“Are you hogging the bed already?”

Rowan looked up to him.

“I  _ don’t  _ hog.” He answered almost offended as he scooted to make room for Arcade. 

“I’ll remember those words when I wake up in the middle of the night freezing because  _ you _ hogged all the blankets.” Joked Arcade as he slipped into bed. It was already warm.

Rowan huffed in an exaggerated manner and put down the broken clock in the nightstand.

“I cannot believe the disrespect and fallacies I have to stand in my own house. Completely unbelievable.” He murmured as he turned back to Arcade and laid down.

Arcade rolled his eyes and reached to turn off the light as he laid down.

* * *

They had laid in silence listening to each other breath for what felt like an eternity when Rowan turned to face Arcade.

“Hey.” He whispered.

“Yes?” Answered Arcade, completely awake.

“Arcade are you afraid of me?”

What kind of question was that. The doctor turned to look at his bed partner, but the Courier had turned again and was looking at the ceiling with a blank expression.

“No.” He simply answered.

“But I  _ am _ scary, right?” Rowan looked soft in the lights from the outside signs, almost like a scared boy. He continued before Arcade could answer. “People avoid me on the streets, like, they go out of their way to not walk too close to me. It might seem I don’t, but I  _ notice _ things.”

“I…” Arcade was at a loss for words. “You look imposing, I guess.” He had to choose what he said very carefully. “I mean, you’re pretty big, and you’re always wearing some kind of armour. Not many people actually know  _ you _ .” Memories of Rowan proclaiming a free New Vegas after Hoover Dam came back to Arcade. He was still proud of the Courier for that.

“But the people that  _ do _ know you know what kind of person you are. I’m not-”

“I don’t know what kind of person I am.” Rowan interrupted him before he could finish. “I don’t remember jack shit of who I am Arcade. Maybe I was a ganger, maybe I was in the fucking Legion.” There was a frustration to his voice that Arcade had never heard before.

“You weren’t in the Legion-” Rowan cut him off again.

“Violence comes easy to me. You’ve seen me fight before, you know-” He was stressing the words as if it was a great physical effort to pronounce them. Arcade cut him off before he went into a downward spiral.

“That’s not true.” He said with as much authority as he could muster. “Rowan, in all the time I’ve known you I haven’t seen you start a single fight. You always act in self defence. We live in a shit world and sometimes resorting to violence is the only way we have to survive. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t change.”

“I don’t even know if I have a family. How can someone forget their own family.” Rowan was breathing heavily, he sounded panicked. “I dream, sometimes, of places I don’t remember, of people I can’t name, but I still feel like- like I should know them-”

Arcade reached under the covers to grab his hand and looked at the ceiling.

“We’ll find out. That’s why you want to go to Primm, right? To see if we can find out anything about your past.”

Rowan stopped hyperventilating and looked at Arcade.

“I- yeah.”

“There has to be records of you  _ somewhere _ . We’ll find them.” Rowan’s hand was sweaty, but Arcade held it still.

“Yes.” Said Rowan with a newfound confidence. “I- we- ” He was having trouble finding the right words, so he just squeezed Arcade’s hand and moved a bit closer to him.

Arcade could feel Rowan’s radiating warmth. Their shoulders were almost touching.

“It must be hard, not remembering your past. Take it easy.”

“Doctor’s orders?” Arcade could see Rowan almost smile in the dimly lit room.

“Actually, yes.” Rowan was making circles on his hand with his thumb.

They were quiet for a while. Arcade was starting to fall asleep when Rowan spoke again.

“Thanks.” It was an almost inaudible whisper, but the doctor still managed to catch it.

“Don’t mention it.”

They stayed in silence until they fell asleep, still hand in hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long, I'm very inconsistent with writing. I've also decided to do this in 3 chapters instead of two and to change the rating for the swearing and maybe some adult themes? idk.

Arcade woke up with a startle.

The room was filled with a soft yet bright light. It was morning already. The doctor tried to roll over, as he noticed that he was on the edge of the bed, dangerously close to falling off, but something rather heavy was holding him down. As he continued to slowly become aware of his surroundings he noticed a noise. It followed a rhythm, up and down, and suddenly, the same harsh noise that had woken him up just a few minutes ago. _Rowan_. 

He sat up as much as he could and turned to look at his sleeping companion. Rowan was still completely out, and had an arm over Arcade’s midsection. He wasn’t holding him down, but his arm was heavy enough that it took Arcade a conscious effort to move it. There was drool on the pillow. 

“Hey.” 

Rowan stirred a bit, but then just burrowed his face closer to Arcade.

The doctor then tried to nudge his arm a bit. “Come on Rowan, we better set out before it gets too hot.”

“Annie, no…”

Annie? They didn’t know any Annie, or at least Arcade didn’t. He could tell Rowan was still asleep. Was he dreaming of someone?

“Rowan.” He said more loudly this time, as he nudged him again.

“Wha-?” The Courier rose up slowly, some drool on his cheek. “Arcade? You’re gonna fall of the bed.” He said as he looked him over.

“Yes, because you wouldn’t let me move.” Arcade answered, feigning annoyance, as he scooted to the center of the bed. “I had been trying to get you up for a while, but you were completely knocked out. Where you dreaming of something, perhaps?” He asked, as unsuspiciously as he could, which wasn’t much. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Rowan was clearly confused, and suddenly turned visibly red and moved away from Arcade. “Shit I wasn’t poking you or anything right?” He was checking under the covers.

Arcade started at him as he too turned red. “No, you- nevermind, it was probably nothing.” He said as he rose from the bed and went to the bathroom, the name all but forgotten. 

* * *

Arcade looked at himself in the mirror.

His relationship with the Courier was complicated. He knew there was some kind of _interest_ . At least on his part. But knowing the kind of mental chaos Rowan had to be in put him off trying to pursue anything. _For now_ , he thought, and instantly reprimanded himself mentally for it. Rowan needed help, and that’s just what he was going to offer.

He quickly washed himself and changed his clothes. They still had to walk quite a bit until they reached Primm.

The reunion with Rowan wasn’t as awkward as Arcade expected, the anticipation of what they might find in Primm was quickly coming to them. The Courier didn’t say a word until they were crossing Nipton.

“Shit, this place is a fucking ghost town. Did no one try to like, come back to live here? There’s no Legion anymore.”

Nipton was indeed completely empty, at least a first sight. Arcade looked around. There really wasn’t any sign that there was someone living there. It was unsettling.

“Let’s just try to get to Primm as soon as possible.” Answered Arcade.

They managed to get to Primm before sundown. A mix of anxiety and adrenaline fueling both of them. They had to find _something_ there. Just anything that would give them a clue of who Rowan had been before. 

* * *

Primm was also pretty much a ghost town. There were reconstruction efforts, but so far that hadn’t meant much. Someone in New Vegas had mentioned trying to fix up the hotel and the casino, in an attempt at bringing people back to the place. Arcade couldn’t see any sign of that.

They entered the post office and an old man came from the back to greet them. _Not so empty after all_ , thought the doctor.

Johnson Nash stopped in his tracks once he recognised Rowan.

“I hadn’t expected you to be back. Need a job?” He said as he came closer to them.

Rowan just stood there dumbfounded. Arcade decided to intervene, he was there to help after all.

“We wanted to ask if you keep any kind of record about your employees, and if we could see his, in case you do.” He said, as diplomatic as he could.

“Records?” Johnson stopped to think. “Well, we do keep some basic information on our couriers, but there’s not much.” He looked at Rowan next. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with giving you your own papers.”

He turned to the back room, and Arcade could hear him shuffling papers. Soon after, he returned with a yellow paper folder in his hands. He settled it on the front counter, and pulled some white paper and a pen. 

“I’d prefer you didn’t take this. I like to have my paperwork organized.” 

The Courier looked at the folder, completely still. Arcade decided to intervene and reached for the papers. The movement made Rowan flinch.

“You Ok?” He asked quietly, as he opened the folder.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer Rowan gave him. He just stared at the papers on the folder, his gaze fixed on what appeared to be a picture of him.

It was glued to Rowan’s file. It also seemed recent. The only differences where the hair, which looked like a short mohawk, and the lack of the bullet scar that he know had along his hairline.

As Rowan continued to stare at his picture. Arcade went to read the file. Most of the information was filled out to his surprise. Johnson wasn’t lying about keeping the paperwork organized.

 _Nin, Rowan_ , said the name line. There was a date of birth, too. _28th of February, 2253_.

“Your turned 30 last month.” He said to his companion, just a bit amused. He hadn’t really given much thought to Rowan’s age, since he was clearly an adult, but knowing the bigger man was a couple of years younger than him was interesting. He continued reading, ignoring Rowan’s confusion.

There was a contact address, which caught Arcade’s attention.

“You lived in _Nipton?_ ” He asked out loud, clearly confused. Rapidly, he grabbed the pen and paper Johnson had offered previously, and wrote down the address. “We should check this, it’s the best lead we could’ve possibly found.”

He was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it. The excitement of maybe finding some solid information about Rowan’s past was too much. He turned to the Courier.

“Nipton.” Muttered Rowan. He seemed completely lost in his own thoughts, but he suddenly snapped back to reality. “If we leave now we might arrive just as night falls.”

That was all the confirmation that Arcade needed to dash out of the Mojave Express building.

* * *

It was pitch black when they arrived in Nipton again. Despite almost running back to the place, it was still a reasonable distance.

Luckily, Rowan seemed to had prepared for every possible scenario, and he pulled out an oil lantern from his backpack. Arcade almost wanted to ask him _where in the hell had he found that_ , but the urgency of finding the Courier’s old house made him stay quiet.

With a source of light, they set out to finding the house. It proved to be more difficult than Arcade would’ve thought, between the darkness the fact that most houses had _at least_ some structural damage done to the outside, courtesy of the Legion. Still, there weren’t that many houses in Nipton, so it wasn’t a lost cause.

Rowan’s house ended up being the one next to the general store, and surprisingly, it didn’t look damaged or looted. The windows had some kind of protection from the inside, so none of them were broken, and when they got close to the door, it was clear that it had a good lock.

Arcade was starting to think of ways of breaking in without cause too much noise or damage to the property when Rowan pulled out a ring with some keys out of his backpack. The doctor just started at him.

“Did you seriously keep the keys to you house all this time?”

“I didn’t know what they were for.” Rowan was staring at his hand as if he was holding a nuclear weapon. “I just felt they were important and never threw them out.”

He stepped closer to the door and opened it easily. A familiar movement. The door creaked as it opened, and the light of Rowan’s lantern slowly filled the small house.

It was full of dust, clearly no one had stepped in it for a long while. How the house had survived everything Nipton had gone through, Arcade couldn’t fathom. They wandered slowly around what seemed like the main room, where there was a kitchen and a living room. This was one of the smallest houses around. Arcade could only see two more doors, a bathroom and the bedroom, he assumed.

He didn’t realise that Rowan wasn’t next to him anymore, and went looking for him in the bedroom.

The Courier was sitting in a double bed in the middle of the room. There was something in his hands, which caught Arcade’s attention.

“What’s that?” He asked softly, as he came to sit next to Rowan.

The bigger man didn’t answer, but Arcade could now look at the object in question. It was a picture. A picture of a big group of people in the middle of which was Rowan. A clearly younger Rowan. His hair was sticking in every direction possible and he didn’t have a beard. He was surrounded by 4 girls of varying ages. Above them, there was an older couple. A tall blonde man with a stern expression and next to him a smiling dark haired woman with Rowan’s eyes. 

“I can’t remember them” Whispered the Courier, as he clutched the picture harder. “I feel like I should know them but I can’t even remember their names.” He was shaking, and suddenly, a sob.

Arcade tried to find something to say to Rowan, anything to make this easier, but he couldn’t even imagine what not knowing you own family might feel like. He snuck an arm around Rowan, hoping to comfort him, even if it was just a tiny bit, when he caught a glimpse of something written in the back of the picture.

He grabbed the picture softly from Rowan’s hands, and the other man let him. He turned it around. _Nin’s Farm, Junktown, Summer of ‘79._

“Rowan look.” He said quietly, turning the picture so the Courier could see it better. “It’s a farm in Junktown.”

Rowan calmed down a bit, and wiped his eyes to see the writing better.

“Junktown is not that far away. If we went back to New vegas and prepared we could make the trip.” Continued Arcade. “Another adventure.” He said smiling.

“Junktown…” Rowan repeated. “It’s much farther than anywhere else we’ve gone to. We could get a brahmin cart.”

“To Junkertown, then?” Asked Arcade.

“To Junkertown.” Answered Rowan, a hint of hope in his voice.


End file.
